Her Hope
by Wayward Fool
Summary: A forgotten piece of the past tries to retain her sanity in a small cold room. She does not live, but exists, until on a routine check he stalks back into her life. HGDM OneShot


Hermione sat on her bed and watched out her window, the searchlights illuminating her dark bedroom at intervals. The room was small, bare of any comfort, the bed was concrete, the shelves held nothing. Nothing to help her escape. Either physically or mentally.

Hours passed, or what she thought were hours, as she lay on her bed shivering. All they gave her was a pair of thin cotton shorts and thin cotton shirt. They liked to keep them dressed sparsely, especially the females. It repulsed and excited them. Hermione shivered, one that had nothing to do with the cold coming through the open window. Yes, how enticing that window was. Open, no bars, no glass. But spells upon spells to keep her in. They loved to torture her like this. She could almost be free.

She wondered what Ron was doing. He was a pureblood, he should be fine. Well, not fine, but perhaps he'd survived. Unfortunately he was closely linked with Harry. Many people were closely linked with Harry. And now that link was gone. There was no Harry. There was a failed mission and a new Lord-of-all now. He was just a passing fancy.

Tears prickled at her eyes and she berated herself, knowing she'd get no water for another two days. Soon, they would come for their weekly inspection. They always did. Yes, there were the footsteps now.

The metal door opened with a long pained noise and a wizard in clean-cut, sturdy robes walked in, white-blonde hair flying free and beautiful.

"Still alive? Good." He turned to leave after not so much as a second look at her and she sat up, the urge to cling to anything, for even just a little while, was eating her up.

"Draco? How is it, out there? In the sun? With people and comfort and magic?" He stopped and stiffened.

"Don't address me by my first name. You, Muggle, have no right. And I do not even know you." He started forward and Hermione called out again.

"Yes you do. Don't you recognise me at all?" She was now sitting on the bed, staring at his stiff, black suit and taking in every detail into her memory hungrily. It had been so long. So long since she had seen anyone new. Anyone from the old times. The time before.

"No. And I don't wish to. You are a prisoner rank D, there is hardly any point speaking to you."

"But there is. Turn and look at me Draco." She said his name because she'd never had courage to do so before. He had hardly registered in her radar before. After Hogwarts, he meant nothing. Now he was everything. Everything.

Slowly, hesitantly, he turned and looked at her with scrutiny. His eyes ravished her. She felt full. Someone was looking at her. Maybe he would recognise her? She looked down at herself and took in her appearance. She was thin. Thin as those girls people are always worried about, but she still had her breasts, there was still a nice swell under her singlet. She was dirty too. They allowed her to wash before every meeting with the Warden, which came every two months. She'd only washed a week ago. She was fairly clean, by her new standards.

"No. I don't know you." That hurt. It hurt. She must have changed. She had no tears, but her voice was full of pain.

"I thought you might. Hermione Granger, pleased to re-acquaint myself with you." Nervously, she smiled, as his whole face changed from one of disgust to mild horror.

"Granger? _Hermione?_ You-you're alive? And in here? But... you're dead! Look at you!" His stillness was gone. He was shocked and he looked as if he wanted to move closer. That would be nice. She just smiled and nodded, happy he knew her. She hadn't felt happiness in a while.

Finally, he turned back and all but shut the door, keeping it open just slightly so he could leave again. He slowly approached her and her heart beat faster. She was going to be touched. Without it being something dirty. Without her having to be motionless. Detached.

"Hermione? How long have you been in here?"

"I'm not sure. I was put in here when we lost. How long ago was that?" Draco paled. There was no colour in his face. He looked like an angel. She didn't really believe there were angels. But he looked like they were described in some books. Oh, books. She hadn't thought about reading in so long.

"That... I was sure all of the first ones had died. Hermione, it's been five years!"

"Really? Isn't that amazing? I could have sworn I'd only been here a few months. But I suppose the months do tend to blend. Slowly. Shower. Meet the Warden. Sit and wait. Eat once a week. Drink twice a week. Sometimes they come for me. Sometimes they don't. It's fun to guess when they will. I usually get it right these days." She smiled benignly. She suspected they would come in... three days.

"Oh Hermione. I wish I'd known sooner! You're so thin." He looked at his watch. Oh, it was seven thirty-two. It had been so long since she'd seen a watch.

"I have to go. But I'll be back. And I'll get you out of here." Now she was slightly taken aback.

"Why would you help me Draco Malfoy? Your side won. I am nothing but a magic-less Muggle. I am a tool. Waste of Space. Mudblood." She smiled.

"Hermione, there is so much you don't know. You are none of those things. I was never on their side. I'm on the Light. We are going to take him down. I'll get you out of here." No! There is was. Stupid. Why had she called out to him? Hope. Stupid, good for nothing Hope was back. It was there. Now she was thinking about it. Now she was wondering who was alive and what were they doing. A weak sobbing noise left her throat and she leapt on top of him, hitting him weakly, wanting to hurt him for doing this to her.

"How could you? You did this! I wasn't feeling! I'd lost it... I didn't _have_ to hurt anymore! I could have just gone on living, or not living, and then died _happily." _He looked taken aback before he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I _will_ get you out Hermione." Then he left. As suddenly as he had come, he was gone. She steeled herself for a long, long wait. Five years? Had it really been that long?

------------------------------------------------

The ceiling looked pretty to her eyes. It was grey. Everything was grey. But it was interesting. It was dimpled. It formed patterns in her mind. Maybe she should read her books again? Which one? She could read the Potions Manual for Masters, but that wasn't enough to stimulate her mind any longer. Maybe she should pick something that would be a challenge. Something she hadn't read for over five years. What would it be? Aha! Nobody would expect her to have read it often, but she had tried to learn everything she could about the subject, when they had both played the sport.

Quidditch through the Ages. It was quite interesting. Now she struggled to remember the first page. And then the second. She could remember whole sections, but she had forgotten quite a lot of information. Mentally, she turned the page.

The door opened. That was strange. It was only the second day after he had left. She quelled the urge to scream with happiness. Maybe he'd come to rescue her? No. She told the voice to shut up. He would not come.

But he did. The door opened and revealed Draco Malfoy, wearing similar clothes to what he wore two days ago. He rushed in and hugged her, and she was so shocked she did not return it.

"Come. I have others helping me, they are occupying the guards. We erased your record. You're coming with me." He took off his outer cloak and draped it around her shoulders. She was numb.

"Really? Am I really getting out?" She finally started to cry. She was leaving. Her bare feet touched the marble corridor and she almost laughed. She was going _home._

------------------------------------------------

The Burrow was the same as it had been years ago. It looked a little older, but it was still fundamentally the same. Draco Apparated them to outside the gates, outside the wards and slowly walked her into the lane. The door opened and Ginny was the first person she saw. She stopped and collapsed on the ground, her tears coming fast and hot down her cheeks.

Ginny reached her and hugged her fiercely. She'd grown. She was fuller, taller, and older. There were lines on her face but Hermione thought she looked better for them.

"Hermione! Oh my god. Oh my god. We thought... when Draco told us... Oh Hermione!" Ginny was in tears but she stood, letting Draco pick up Hermione as they walked slowly, tearfully, toward the house.

The dining room was full of people. Her senses were overloaded. Molly. Arthur. Bill. George. Ron. Ron was there. Tall and scarred. Remus. Tonks. Neville and Luna.

Hermione cried and everyone cheered. She was home. She had hope. She burrowed her head into Draco's chest, crying all the tears she'd not cried in years. She felt a flair of unhappiness, knowing Harry would not miraculously appear. But she had dealt with that loss long ago. What mattered was she was home. She was away from that cell.

"Hermione, you're alive!" Ron had bounded over and tried to take her from Draco's arms, but Draco kept a firm hold of her and she clung to him.

Soon she was seated at the table and everyone started talking at once, each vying for her attention. Finally, they all quieted and there was silence, everyone looked at her expectantly.

"Um. I was captured in the Ministry take over. And... I met the Warden every two months. And _them _every few weeks. And I was fed every week. And they gave me water twice a week. And that is all. What has been happening out here?" She smiled but they looked at her with sadness. She had told all this to Draco. He hadn't reacted much. It was okay if nobody reacted. Finally, Ginny spoke up.

"Who is 'they' Hermione?"

"_Them. _They are _they._"

"And what did they do?"

"The usual." She started to squirm. She had a bad feeling. What was there she wasn't supposed to remember. She wasn't supposed to know about that.

"And what is the usual? Did they, take you to a black room?" A soft, guttural noise erupted from her throat and she stood and tried to run, but she was too weak to make it far. Everybody had stood and Draco had caught her. Again, like the first time, she tried to break free, hitting him. He endured it and held her, until she was finally just crying and he was just holding her, soothing.

"I want to leave now. You can take me back if you want. I don't want to be here. They don't like me anymore." She whispered to Draco, and he held her tighter.

"I will _never_ take you back. You will _never_ go back there, to them, to that _place._ If you don't want to be here, we'll go." His voice was fierce, and he let her go slightly, but kept a steading hand on her back.

"Um, I'm going to go with Draco now. I will be back. Sometime. I'm not supposed to remember the Black Room." She smiled as if this were a normal parting message and latched onto Draco, and he pulled her tight. He might have said something to them, but she wasn't listening. She had thought that the Burrow was home. But he smelt like home. He was her home.


End file.
